Drunken Tells
by Unknown Souldreamer
Summary: It always starts with a bottle of liquor and a game of Wicked Grace. Warden-Commander Cousland and the redeemed Nathaniel Howe mesh better than they should, despite initially being on opposing sides. But one mistake later, and Nathaniel remembers one very important fact about his Commander, in addition to having a crown waiting for her at home. f!Cousland/Nathaniel Howe


Author's Note

Another story for this fandom! I finished Awakening and absolutely loved Nathaniel's character. He's an honorable person, and not a bad looking guy, either. Going to try to explore some conflicting things with his honor in the face of a certain lovely Warden-Commander.

Reviews and constructive criticism is always welcome!

* * *

"…And then she tried my secret brew, and immediately knocked out!" Oghren laughed. The three male Grey Wardens – the mage Anders, the dwarven warrior Oghren, and the archer Nathaniel Howe, were having a rare time of relaxation. Between protecting the arling of Amaranthine and keeping the Vigil afloat, they had been worked to the bone. Moments like these even warranted Oghren to rummage through his stash of alcohol to kick back with his fellow Wardens.

"Well, I still think it's impossible to imagine our lovely Warden-Commander even drinking," Anders said, taking a swig of the Chasind sack mead that was being passed around.

"If you knew the Commander before she became, well, the Commander, trust me, noble lass would be the furthest thing from your mind. She cursed and drank with the best of us," Oghren paused for a second to think, "The girl's best friend was that Antivan elf, too. The things they talked about would have our Chantry bard Leliana blush. There was that time at the Pearl…"

The Commander in question had just entered the mess hall, mind lost in thought after speaking to Velanna. She had been trying to befriend the bad-tempered elf ever since she recruited her a week ago, making little progress in the friendship area. Their conversation ended on a more positive note, however, with Lilith inviting her to the Vigil's library for tea and a chance to peruse the stacks for any note of Dalish history.

She noticed her friends at a table in the corner, and that table cluttered with Oghren's bottles of liquor, and smiled. "Boys just being boys," she thought. The way they drank suited them perfectly. Oghren was loud, taking huge gulps of whatever the strongest alcohol was. Anders was swaying slightly, but was trying very hard to hold his liquor and down his drink. And Nathaniel, or Nate, as she now liked to call him, was a gentleman as always, was taking polite sips and was only a bit red in his cheeks.

In an effort to not disturb them, she tried to creep past the table and towards the stairs, but as she started to climb, Oghren called out, "Hey! Commander! Just the lass we were hoping to see."

She sheepishly turned around and made her way towards them, "Oh? Are you readying yourself for the next important battle, Oghren?"

"Nah, but the darkspawn are no match for me sober or piss-drunk," the dwarf puffed out his chest, "Mage here thinks you're boring as hell. But I'll let you know that I've been defending your honor." He raised his flagon in appreciation.

"Are you sure that's not just talk, Commander? Here I was thinking you're a stick in the mud, but to actually be loitering with the common-folk? Preposterous," Anders eyed a bottle of firewhiskey in front of her, and then brought his eyes to rest on her. "I want to see it for myself. Join in the fun, Commander."

Lilith was about to say something when Nathaniel opened his mouth, looking directly at her, "You don't have to do it if you don't want to. Anders is just being an arse."

"Quiet and stoic finally opens his mouth to save a damsel in distress. No wonder you make all the female guards swoon," Oghren shot out. "C'mon, Commander. No harm in being just plain ole' Lilith for an hour or two."

"Oh, alright. Just this once," Lilith pulled out a chair and reached for a flagon. "What do you recommend, Oghren?"

"For being stored in that blasted basement for ancestor's knows how long ago, this brandy ain't half bad," he poured her a drink, "and since it isn't the Commander drinking with us, but Lilith, I'd say some introductions are in order."

"That's when you know he's really drunk," Anders motioned for another drink, "Lilith – do you like to go by Lil? Lili?"

"When we were younger, Nate called me Lil. But since I've met Leliana, I've preferred to not mix the two of us up," she leaned back and gulped down her drink. "Oghren, another!"

"You've known Nathaniel before all this? Even before the Blight? Now what was that like?"

"Terribly uneventful," Nathaniel sighed, not wanting the mage to pry into his past with her.

Lilith swatted his arm playfully, "That's not true, Nate! I could always share some stories of the time Thomas was bullying me and he came to save me with his toy bow. But what about over a game of Wicked Grace? That always spices the mood," she grinned.

"I don't think that's a good –" Nathaniel began before being interrupted by Oghren.

"What a great idea. Last time we played, Leliana got me and elf boy down to our smalls. Granted, there's none of that involved this round, is there?"

"Not if you want there to be some disrobing," Anders pulled out a deck of cards, "I'll deal. Nathaniel, you in?"

"Unfortunately, yes," the archer eyed Lilith, who was already starting on her third drink. He figured he better keep an eye on her, just in case.

"That's settled then. So Lilith, about you and Nate…"

* * *

"You think Anders is gonna be alright?" Lilith slurred as she leaned on Nathaniel. The game had ended on an interesting note – Oghren fell asleep halfway through it and Anders started professing how attractive Velanna was to the two remaining drinkers. Nathaniel was aiding his friend up the stairs to her room, the latter very drunk and lacking in proper motor coordination.

"He'll be fine. Worst case scenario is he'll try to confess to her and she'll slap him in the face."

"Honestly, Nate? That's a best case scenario we're looking at," she leaned in closer to him and he caught a whiff of her, a floral scent that reminded him faintly of the rose bushes his sister Delilah used to grow when they were children.

They walked on in silence for several minutes, until they reached her bedroom, the master bedroom of the keep. Nathaniel attempted to pry his arm off of her waist, but she clung on, and pouted, "Nate, can you please tuck me into bed?" The Commander of the Grey, perhaps one of the strongest women in Ferelden, had been reduced to a weakened mess in the face of alcohol.

Sighing, he complied, opened the door and led her to her bed. "You're going to have the worst headache in the world tomorrow, my lady," he said, placing the covers over her.

"No more of that "my lady" nonsense! You're so proper, Nate. And so handsome…" She giggled. "Oghren's right, ya know."

"What?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was already breaking the boundaries of their relationship by being in her room. He wanted to leave, but at the same time, he found himself glued to the floor.

"That quiet and stoic thing, haha! I wonder, have any of the female guards approached you yet?" She brought her hand to his face, and started caressing his cheek. "Have they started to call you Nate? Or is it just me?" She whispered, terribly close enough to kiss.

As much as he wanted to give into temptation, he was still more sober and more aware that anything physical would end in regret. "Lilith, I really should get going –," he started to get up, but Lilith placed a hand on his wrist.

"Honestly, Nate, any lady would be lucky to have you. Too bad that lady isn't me." With that, she leaned up and brought her lips to his. It was a delicate kiss, unreciprocated for several seconds until Nathaniel decided to eschew propriety, by kissing her back and nibbling her lip.

Her hand trailed upwards to the back of his head, and brought them closer together. His fingers intertwined with hers as he towered over her. He began to bite harder at her lip, causing her to gasp, and allow his tongue to wrestle with hers. The seconds drew into minutes, and his pants started to feel so tight. He knew the nagging voice in his head was telling him that the longer he stayed, the larger his regret would be. But he couldn't stop, couldn't stop tasting her soft, sweet skin or sucking particularly hard at the pressure point on her neck. When she moaned, however, what she said next made his blood run cold.

"Nate, oh Andraste, you kiss so much better than Alistair."

Nathaniel froze, and immediately drew away from Lilith. "Oh, Maker, oh Maker what have I done?" He had forgotten something very significant about Lilith, beyond the fact that she was Warden-Commander.

He left her room in a hurry, closing the door behind him. He dreamt of a King setting his head on pike, a Queen laughing mockingly at his face.

Lilith dreamt of something different, of a mysterious longhaired prince with sweet-tasting kisses, whose face was obscured from sight.

He had a feeling he would remember this in the morning, his guilt as wide as the Amaranthine sea.

He just hoped the Commander of the Grey remembered nothing at all.

* * *

Cliffhanger! Wonder what tomorrow morning will bring...


End file.
